


acute deficiency

by Mother_North



Series: Heartache [7]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Drama, Feels, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Introspection, M/M, POV First Person, Pining, Post-Break Up, Psychology, Retrospective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 09:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19999828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: Emptiness paired with inner numbness. Hotel room and crumpled bedsheets. I am left alone.Let it be, albeit I am still in love with you, Yuzu, as madly as ever…





	acute deficiency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karenkk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karenkk/gifts).



> RPF disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and it is not meant to offend anyone. It is a product of author’s imagination only. All thoughts, actions and emotions described below have nothing to do with reality.
> 
> P.S. For Karenkk, she knows why.

**

**POV Javier**

Toronto is somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, world apart… just the way you are.

Leaden skies, heavy rain is lashing against pavements and faces of passers-by, who were unfortunate enough to forget their umbrellas at home. There is supposed to be the Sun. Spain is the country of warm sunbeams and heartfelt smiles, the land of comforting light…

I was often told my smile is like the Sun itself. It doesn’t scorch, yet it melts. You used to say it yourself, sometime in the past life.

I was positively sure I had lost the ability to smile at all.

Your image is blazing hotly against the backside of my eyelids, made of fragments of memories and lewd, feverish dreams that keep on torturing me from dusk to dawn. I am hellbent on cherishing it; at the back of my mind there is a nailed up coffin and I let myself resurrect the corpse of my love for you from time to time – on special occasions like today, when I am all alone and miserable.

I am swallowed up by the surrounding silence, although the buzzing in my head seems deafening. The time has stopped and the space collapsed.

_Dead._

I was told countless times that it would pass. They lied.

“Just let it go.”

Except that it was actually _you_ who has let go.

An exhausted sigh escapes me as I close heavy eyelids, trying to find a comfortable position among the sofa cushions. Apathy is a permanent condition. At first I thought I had numerous plans to materialize into life, the shortage of time getting on my nerves constantly: endless interviews, show-tours to get lost in, management and organizational problems to solve, _a life to live_ …

Although _she_ became a constant in my daily existence and it helped a bit. She simply was there for me, looking at me with eyes brimming of unconditional love and whispering words of reassurance into my ear and straight into my broken heart. I wanted to slam my forehead against the wall, to crack my skull open – I felt unworthy and undeserving, ready to howl from self-loath.

I was too hypocritical and false, filthy images in my mind plaguing my sanity, haunting and vivid. She provided support and forgiveness while I was _fucking you_ in front of my mind’s eye again and again, as dying from _the thirst_ as ever.

You reign supreme in my thoughts: your milky-white skin, your flowery, enticing scent, your dashing smile which lighted up your whole countenance from within and you _glowed_ with radiance. I still remembered the way your silky, raven hair smelled of morning dew and happiness…

You slipped through my fingers, weightless as a sakura petal, floating away with the gust of wind.

I keep on asking myself the same blasted question, whether I had the right to stop you…whether I had any chance of not letting you go – on that morning, in that hotel room.

Having you pressed against the hard surface of the door with all of the might of my despair, claiming you forcefully, demanding your complete submission with my crude caresses and biting kisses, sensing your erratic heartbeat beneath my own palm, as it kept on squeezing harder and harder your frail windpipe; your small whimpers and thin lips turning blue making me high.

I could have taken you back then, like I used to hundreds of times before, yet I failed to make you truly mine.

_“Farewell, Javi.”_

The quiet and irreversible whisper; I fell into the unmade bed, the sheets still smelling of you, the fading warmth of your body painfully vivid against my skin, the obscene scent of our lovemaking attacking my senses, dangerously shifting my sanity.

It turned out to be our final time together.

It seems strange now that I haven’t shed a single tear, suddenly devoid of any emotions, simply lying there blank-eyed and immovable, staring into nothingness. As if someone invisible had turned off the lights and the only thing left was darkness. I took it without a fight, impotent and weak in my despair. It was so unlike me that I am still flabbergasted by my own unexplainable reaction to our breakup.

I’ve managed to survive without your hands and touches, without your voice and dark eyes long enough, so that it makes me proud. Notwithstanding the phantom pain in my shattered heart, I am still breathing.

At a certain point I used to think we were almighty: standing at the top, the whole world seemingly at our feet, with a pair of wings for the two of us.

I was so naïve, hoping we could be above all of the prejudices and artificial, so-called social norms and imposed notions of morals, of what is supposed to be “right” and “wrong”.

_The Ideal._

_The Honour of Nation._

_The Embodiment of a Dream._

We were constantly hiding like criminals. You said there was no other way, no option but a clandestine and illicit affair to indulge in behind closed doors. You were smiling disarmingly, lying and lying and lying; choosing words with utmost care and avoiding direct answers, saying only what others wanted to hear from you.

 _The Project_ waiting ahead: a perfect Japanese wife and several sweet children to fulfill your expected duty of being an ideal role model in a society that celebrates traditional family values. Let them watch and rejoice, let them be proud and keep on looking up to the untarnished façade of the dreamlike _Son of the Nation_.

Everything is planned in advance – at twenty-five or at twenty-six or maybe after the third Olympics…

As if you do not belong to yourself anymore, your real essence lost in the process of pursuing eternal greatness; an endless parade of impeccable masks, a never-ending masquerade.

_Beautiful and yet dead inside._

Only in my embrace you could remain your true self. At last you could have afforded the luxury. We indulged in moments of stolen happiness, far away from prying eyes and wagging tongues. We were too wrapped up in each other and every second seemed as precious, as a fragile flower threatened to be crushed by a cruel hand any instant.

I was protecting you, a loyal guardian always at your side. I was pretending too, knowing full well that the only thing that truly mattered was what we had between us.

Against all odds we somehow continued being one.

More often than not, I was the one to relinquish control and surrender to your wishes, letting you dictate and lead the way. It is impossible not to succumb to you and your elvish spells. You just had to purse your tempting lips capriciously in a feigned disappointment to twist me around your finger.

_Solve Et Coagula._

“I love you, Javi.”

These unsophisticated three words had me melting every single time. I buried my nose in your fragrant hair at the back of your head, inhaling your arousing scent, biting into the tender skin, while savouring small tremors of excitement wrecking your body.

My heart was bleeding love, dripping with sheer tenderness. It was breaking into pieces from the cruel realization that our time was finite. It is destined to come to an end one day.

It happened even earlier than I expected. “Too constricting” you said, “holding you down” you said, “not enough room to breathe” you said.

“We can’t! They’ll find out sooner or later!”

I felt like throwing up, sickened by the lame excuses you kept on feeding me with.

I saw it as a betrayal.

_You didn’t choose me. You didn’t choose your true self._

I wanted to seize you by the bony shoulders and shake violently, to wake you up from the “haze of righteousness and dutiful propriety”, so that you could say _fuck you_ to all of the mounting expectations, extrinsic taboos and self-imposed boundaries; so that you could _burn_ like before – blinding and ecstatic and for me alone.

“Won’t you start despising yourself, Yuzu?”

You chose not to reply.

You got so accustomed to pretending and playing roles that at a particularly unfortunate point became one with your artificial personification, tragically devoured.

“But we have to, Javi! You have to understand! This is the only _right thing_ to do!”

I hated the words you have spoken with vehemence. I wanted to slap you in the face so badly… to only smother you in my arms moments later.

_“I am sorry.”_

Breathless and drowned out by the impending total silence.

Emptiness paired with inner numbness. Hotel room and crumpled bedsheets. I am left alone.

Let it be, albeit I am still in love with you, Yuzu, as madly as ever.

**


End file.
